Parallels
by Ryzi
Summary: There are two sides to every coin
1. Parting Gifts

**_Well, my lovely readers. Here it is. _**  
**_The anticipated start of my huge project. _**  
**_-explosions- _**  
**_PARALLELS_**  
**_And let me tell you. This thing wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the super duper extra wonderful _**  
**_-jazz hands-_**  
**_MOTHRA! _**  
**_Because she is an awesome beta-reader/editor/authoress whom even though has her own epically epic story of epicness is able to tolerate the thousands of e-mails and edits that I sent her (and will probably continue to send her) as this story goes on. _**

**_But here we are, a new story with no relation what so ever to Constants and Variables._**

**_Also, a disclaimer before we jump in._**  
**_As you know, Bioshock Infinite is all about racism and white supremacy._**  
**_And even though I am writing it, I do NOT agree with any of it._**  
**_That said, here we go!_**

* * *

The warming spring air floats in your window as the sun shines through the curtains. You roll over in your sheets and grumble. The sound of your brothers entering the room only forces you deeper into your cocoon. You bunch the fabric between your fingers and peek out into the open.

"Pssst. (name)" One of your younger brother's hisses as he leans over your face, "Lookit what I found." He pulls out a rat snake from his pocket and holds it to your nose. The little black snake flickers its tongue and you blink. He places the creature on your head and you can feel the snake slither through your (length) (colour) hair and over your (colour) eyes.

"Jacob...Is this supposed to scare me?" You yawn and sit up, sending the poor baby snake tumbling into your lap.

"Psh...No, it's my parting gift t'ya for when ya go to M'dam Yvette's." He plucks the snake up and sets it back on your shoulder. You immediately sigh and hang your head. Another brother steps up and smacks Jacob across the back of his head.

"Ya dimwit! They don't let'cha keep pets in a snooty school."

You snicker and crawl out of bed. A pair of large arms hoists you up against an extremely stocky chest and you squeal. You look up to see the confident smile of your oldest brother. He ruffles a hand through your hair and hugs you tighter.

"Gonna miss ya kiddo." He mutters and smiles before nearly smothering you in his embrace.

You shriek, "EWW! WILL! WILL'S BEIN' MUSHY!" then wriggle around wildly.

"We just wanna say goodbye!" A brother calls as he joins the hug.

"DOGPILE!" The rest of the brothers all tackle the group to the ground, with you caught in the middle like always. You gasp and pant for air under the crushing force of your three younger brothers. A moment of breathless silence passes.

"I feel somethin' movin'..."

"EW GEORGE SHE'S OUR SISTER." Will teases.

"NO I MEAN LIKE A...A...SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!" George scrambles out of the pile with the baby rat snake squirming out of his shirt sleeve. A thunderous roar of laughter erupts as your brothers all break from the mass. You scramble up and run over to your quivering sibling.

Quickly you snatch the snake up in your hands and let it slither through your fingers, "Aw you scared him George." the laughter never stops as your brothers each bid their farewells, promising to write while they leave to help your father with the morning chores. You stomp into your boots and chase after them, wanting to help too. But your mother steps in front of you, blocking your advances. She kneels down and stares straight into your eyes.

"(name) dear...I know you want to help. But we have to pack the last of your things." She pats your shoulder and jerks back as your new pet wriggles through her fingers, "Did Jacob give that to you?"

You nod.

"Honestly...He knows better than to give a 10 year old girl a snake." She plucks the baby creature from your shoulder and tosses it out the nearest window. You wince and sigh. Your mother leads you back to her room where two suitcases sit on her bed. She walks over to them and folds another dress. You stand there in silence, one question burning in your mind.

"Momma?" You tug at her skirt, "Why do I have to go to boarding school? None of the others had too." This was entirely true, "Why can't I go to regular school?"

Your mother packs away the dress then picks you up and places you on top of the suitcase. She brushes back your hair and smiles.

"Because it's what you have to do. Your brothers do the physical work, and court the wonderful ladies they meet. You will get to be the one to be courted."

You stick your tongue out at the suggestion, "So I have to get all primped and polished just to get _looked_ at? Why can't they like me for well...me?"

Your mother releases a hopeless sigh, "Because honey, men don't want a rowdy girl."

You huff and scoot off the bed, "I'm...I'm gonna say bye to poppa." You can hear your mother muttering to herself as you leave the room.

Descending the stairs, you stare at the pictures of your family. Each brother had a small portrait photo, which you collect from the wall and tuck each one away in your pocket. You were going to miss them dearly.

Your brothers always looked out for you-whether it was because you were the only girl or because you always were getting into trouble was a different story-they treated you no different than how they treated each other, and you loved it.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you continue out into the fields, seeing the men of the family hard at work. Some plow the fields, others herd cattle out into the range, and a few tend to the crops. Your eyes sting as tears threaten to well up.

"_No (name). They wouldn't want you to cry._" You mentally remind yourself and press on, scanning the grounds for your father.

Finally you spot him in the loft door, barking orders to two of your brothers as they try breaking a horse. The creature whinnies loudly and kicks its back hooves up, nearly smashing both in the jaw. Your father curses loud enough for you to hear at your distance as he swings down the loft rope and to the untamed horse. He whistles and launches onto the horse's back, holding tightly onto its neck as it slows down. You cautiously approach the group, making sure to stay far enough away to not get injured.

Your brothers scramble around with rope, fashioning a makeshift bridle over the horse's snout. Finally the horse calms to a stop and your father dismounts, patting the creature gently. A smile brightens on your face and you dash up to your father.

"POPPAAAAA!" You squeal, leaping up on his back before sliding to the ground and landing on your rear.

"Is that who I think it is?" He turns on a heel and picks you off the ground, brushing off the dust on your dress, "You shouldn't be getting dirty, momma will have my hide if you're filthy before you leave." he teasingly scolds. You exaggerate a pout and scuff your boot in the dust.

"Do I _have_ to go?" You hug his leg and look up at him with bubbling (colour) eyes. Your father sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"Yeah...but just think about it, your mother went there, and lookit her."

You scrunch your face.

"Or...think about all the people you're gonna meet."

You huff, "But...but...there's people in town I can meet..."

"(name) we're not gonna discuss it anymore..."

You cross your arms and huff louder. Your father sighs as he leans over and pulls you into a hug. You grip your hands around his back and sigh loudly.

"I'm gonna miss you poppa..."

"I'll miss you too..."

Another moment of silence passes before your mother comes to collect you.

"Dear...The carriage is here...Time to go."

A muffled gasp escapes your lips as your mother pulls you from your father.

"Boys! Come say bye to (name)!" You father hollers and your siblings fall into line. They all wave, except the youngest who scampers up to you and hugs your waist. You feel his hand tuck something in the back of your belt and he makes a soft "shsh!" telling you to keep whatever he gave you a secret. You pat his head and smile sadly.

"Bye Sammy."

Your mother leads you away to the carriage and opens the door. Your bags are already inside and you step in as well. Your mother closes the door as you sit down on the hard seat.

"Remember to get on the noon train to Baltimore!"

You wave a hand and press into the farthest corner of the carriage. You aren't looking forward to this ride. With a shuffle you feel that peculiar object poking at your spine. You draw the item, a slingshot. A smile breaks your sad expression and you immediately flop out the open window, pluck a small rock from your pocket, and aim.

"AYA BOYSIES!" You scream, pebble drawn and aimed at the weather vane a few yards away. Your brothers all halt then holler. You exhale and release, sending the pebble flying.

_clunk_

The vane turns around after being struck. Your brothers cheer, you father laughs loudly, and your mother is outraged. Before she can get back to the carriage, it speeds off. You snicker and wave to her stunned face through the back window.

Maybe this won't be too bad.

* * *

An hour and a half later the town limits come into view. You sleepily rub your eyes after having succumbed to a nap. The sound of a train fully wakes you with a jolt. You peek your head out the window to the town. Citizens bustle about hurriedly to and from the station, their rushed chatter sounds like the buzzing of a wasp's nest. A few young boys weave in and out of the crowd playing a game of 'cowboys and Indians', their mothers' all screeching for their attention.

You hop out of the carriage and pull your heavy luggage from the back, what did your mother put in here? Rocks? With another grunt, you heave the suitcases off and send yourself tumbling to the ground.

"Y'alright there miss?" A voice asks, you look up from the dusty ground. A young woman stands above you. Her skin is covered by the dress and shawl , but you catch a glimpse of her dark skin under her bonnet. What is she doing out here all alone?

"Mhmm..." You nod and push yourself up off the ground. The woman lifts a bag of yours to her side.

"Thank you..." You murmur and offer to take the bag back, but the woman steps away and shakes a hand.

"I insist." She paces towards the loading dock and you follow after her. With another heft, the woman places the bag on a cart, "I'm Abigail." She introduces and .

"I'm uh...(name)." You set your bag down and look up at the clock, 11:55, "OH NO!" You frantically jog in place.

"You headed on the train to Baltimore?" Abigail questions, you nod, "Well lets go."


	2. School Days

Once you board the train, both you and Abigail are approached by one of the attendants.

"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask your...coloured friend to move herself to the back car, this car is full." He glares daggers at your new friend. You look at the seats in the car, they're all empty. Liar.

You cross your arms and huff, but Abigail simply smiles, "Yes sir, I understand. I don't wish to overcrowd any more than needed." She looks down at you and pats your head, leaving your bag at the attendant's feet before stepping off to head to the back car. You sneer at the attendant as he moves your bag to the overhead storage.

"We'll be departing soon, please take a seat." He says with a pleasing grin. You trudge over to the seats and take a spot.

With a groan and hiss, the train whistle blows and suddenly you are on your way to Baltimore. You lean against the glass and sigh, the trip is going to take five hours, and oh how you wish you had someone to talk to. You glance to the back of the car to a door that reads "Colored Only", sighing louder. You could try sneaking back there, but the stuffy attendant would probably find you and escort you back to this car.

Bored, you pull out your slingshot and shoot invisible stones out into the passing scenery. You make little impact noises with your mouth, as if you were actually hitting things. A smile tugs at your lips as you knock an invisible horseman off his loyal steed. You feel your mind drift into imagination.

* * *

Suddenly, you're on horseback, arms tightly wrapped around one of your brother's waists as he leads everyone across the stretch of plains back home. They all whoop and holler as they drive the large heard of cattle back to the farm. The thundering of hooves across the dry dirt rolls like a mighty storm and you squeal in delight. The barns come into view over the horizon and the cattle dash straight for it. Everyone slows to trotting as the steer wander into the large barn. Your brother hops off the horse and motions for you to hop off as well. But you opt for something different.

You reach into your pocket and pull out your sling shot, then load it with a pebble.

"Lookit! I'm one-a those deadeyes!" You draw the pebble back and laugh.

Suddenly the horse starts to trot away and your brothers fade into nothingness.

"B-Boysies?" You murmur, and look over your shoulder, only to see a stretch of darkness. Smoke rolls across the barren ground. The sound of distant screaming startles you as the horse trots farther into the nothingness. You hear someone crying out in pain, but then the sound of a train whistle drowns it out and startles you awake.

* * *

"Miss, we've arrived." The attendant lightly shakes you awake and hands you your luggage. You yawn out a "thank you" and stumble off the train into the bustling station. You search around for Abigail, but have no luck in finding her. Perhaps she had already gone off and on her way.

You manage to weave your way through the endless sea of people in the station and stagger out into the streets. A new array of sights and smells assault your senses. The bitter scent of fresh fish from the harbor, the taste of salt in the air, the countless marina flags wave in the breeze from the ships traversing in and out of the harbor. You spin around and sigh at the wonderful sights before bumping into a pair of legs.

"Ow…Sorry." You apologize and look up at the person you bumped into. The first thing you notice is her hair, it's a stunning red in colour and it's tightly pulled back into a bun.

"It's quite alright." She comments and looks down at you with shocking blue eyes. A chill runs down your spine, "Tell me, where are you headed all by yourself?"

You push your nose up with a finger and tilt your head back, and then with the snobbiest voice you can muster you say "Madam Yvette's School for Girls." The woman next to you chuckles slightly and points down the street.

"Keep heading that way, good luck." She turns away from you and you nod before dashing down the street past all the vendors and shops.

The school comes into view, its stone pillars reaching up into the sky. The fieldstone walls are covered with ivy vines that seem to spill out past the front gate. The sign overhead looks freshly painted in dull green. Every window is shut tightly despite the warm spring day. You purse your lips and stare at the building. The whole place looks stuffy, boring, and uninviting. You prefer to be back home, helping out your brothers instead.

"_But I can't let them all down…_" You declare mentally and trudge up to the front doors. You softly rap your knuckles against the wooden door and wait. In the distance you can still hear children shrieking in delight and vendors bargaining with customers. The doorknob creaks and turns before the door itself opens slowly.

"Good afternoon, welcome to Madam Yvette's School for Girls. Now who are you dear, the new student?" An elderly looking woman asks, she looks sweet enough. You nod and answer with your name and shuffle a little uncomfortably. She invites you inside and you step onto the creaky wooden floor.

"Now I believe some introductions are in order." The woman blows a shrill whistle and a line of girls march down the stairs and stop at the bottom. All their uniforms are clean and pressed. Dresses reaching their ankles, hair tied back ponytails, shined shoes, along with lifeless expressions. You twist your finger through a lock of you (length, color) hair.

"I am Madam Yvette, the headmistress. These will be your classmates." She motions to the other girls who just stare you down, "Now girls head back to class, I'll show our newest young lady around." the girls disperse and the headmistress begins her tour of the school.

As the two of you pace through the halls, you tune out Madam Yvette's droning and mindlessly follow the elderly lady. Everything about this place just bores you. All the colors are some sort of dull, no pictures hang from the walls, and everything smells like dust. Hopefully the other girls here are a lot more lively. You sigh and follow the headmistress up the stairs to the sleeping quarters.

"Here is where you will stay." You look at the neatly folded bunk beds and huff softly before moving your belonging to an unclaimed bed, "Be down for dinner in fifteen minutes." And with that she leaves you alone with your thoughts.

You begin to unpack your things and pull the photos from your pockets. You line them all up on the nightstand and sigh, already feeling homesick.

A few minutes pass and a swarm of girls all march into the sleeping quarters. They all ignore you and pull their dining smocks over their dresses before walking back out and down stairs. Purse your lips and dress yourself in the standard uniform. It itches your skin and has no pockets. You frown, where else are you supposed to keep your slingshot? Or any other neat things you may come across? With another huff you pack away the rest of your belongings before shuffling on your own dining smock and stumbling down the stairs.

"You're late." The headmistress scolds.

"I am not. It's exactly fifteen minutes!" You retort. The other girls all stare at you like it is the end of the world.

"Did you just...talk back?" her hands tighten around her cane.

"No, I just...was pointing out a fact..." You look down and scuff your shoe on the floor.

"Sit."

You obey and watch as the other girls all whisper to each other then poke at the meal on your plate. At least this looks good. You take a bite and instantly melt, it tastes just like the way you mother cooked back at home.

"Alright (name) tell the girls a little about yourself." Madam Yvette seems to hiss.

"Alrighty...I'm (name, surname)...I'm ten years old. My ma and pa run a farm with my six brothers. I like to ride horses and shoot my slingshot...and yeah, that's about it!" You finish with a smile. Once again all the girls seem to whisper and glare at you. You can already tell your next eight years will be nothing but hell.

* * *

The next morning you wake up to find your pictures stolen. The other girls are already getting dressed as you roll out of bed.

"Alright! Who stole my photos?!" You pick up your sling shot, load a pebble and aim it at the other girls, "WHO DID IT?!" The girls all shriek and scramble out of the room.

"(Name)!" Madam Yvette shrieks, "It is very unladylike to threaten others! DETENTION!"

"But my pho-"

"DETENTION" She grabs you by the ear and drags you to a small room, "You will sit here for one hour, then you may go to class." she closes the door behind her. This is going to be a great school year.

* * *

It had been a year now since you had enrolled in the academy, angry tears rolled down your cheeks as your pen scrawled across the stationary.

"Momma, Pop, Will, George, Jesse, Jacob, Danny, and Sammy,  
I don't like it here. Not one bit. The other girls here all tease and poke fun at me cause of where I'm from. They try and spook me and get under my skin, but I know better. Momma I'm behaving for you. Madam Yvette is really mean, the other day she locked me outside in the alley IN THE SNOW. I was out there for an hour before she let me back in. A week ago, we were all out on our walk and this little rat scurried up my sleeve. The other girls got all scared, so I tossed the little thing at them and they all scattered off like mice! But then Headmistress locked me up in the 'Naughty Girl' Box, it has nails and the like in it. I don't try to get out, I just wait. Like the good girl you want me to be Momma.  
Love, (Name)"

The only letter you received a month later was,  
"Dearest (name), we know that you feel out of place, but this is for your own good."

The response did not sit right with you. You had hoped that everyone would have sent their own letters, each one to be a mile long. But no, this response was less than lackluster. However, if you even tried to investigate, Madam Yvette would surely have your hide.

* * *

Another year passed and on your twelfth birthday you had a bizarre nightmare.

A strange man was reaching through a wall to grab you. He spoke something that you couldn't quite understand. He looked inviting however and you outstretched your arms to be taken away from wherever you were.

Upon waking up you pulled out your stationary and began to write your yearly letter.

"Everyone,  
It's been two years now and I don't think I have learned anything useful. The arithmetic is easy and the grammar is a breeze. We have lessons in Latin, but when would I need that? Then there is etiquette. Oh I _hate_ that class. We have to learn how to make stuffy conversation and what fork to use when. Honestly I don't care. As long as I get to eat, I'm happy. Madam Yvette really hates me now, just ask the welts on my back from her cane. I put a snake in her bed to get that beating. One of the bigger girls here burned all my photos of you, so I did what Pa would have wanted and slugged her a good one. Sure I got beaten up pretty bad, and Yvette locked me up for a whole day, but seeing that girl's black eye and bloody nose made it worth it. Sorry Momma, I had to do it. I miss you all so much. Please write back.  
(Name)"

But once again the only letter you received was  
"Dearest (name), we know that you feel out of place, but this is for your own good."

You finally came to the conclusion that your letters weren't making it outside the school and that someone was interfering. Now you had to take matters into your own hands, regardless of the punishment.

* * *

You spent an entire year plotting your revenge on the evil Headmistress , memorizing every nook and cranny of the building so that your plan would be flawless. You didn't care if Madam Yvette kicked you out on the streets, she deserved everything that was coming to her.

It had been four years now since you enrolled, and time for your plan to take action. You pulled out your stationary and smiled smugly.

"Oh Miss, dear, _lovely_, Madam Yvette,  
Thank you so much for isolating me from my family. Thank you for letting the girls tear up my dresses. Thank you for locking me up in my own room, giving me time to plan out your demise. Thank you for all the bloody scars on my back from your crop. Thank you so much for letting Greta chop my hair. Oh thank you so much for giving me Hell.  
Your Favorite Girl  
(Name)"

You sent off the letter, knowing that soon you would have revenge.

* * *

Then the day comes when your world shatters. You plan to set your revenge in motion, but fate seems to have other plans.

It is mail day, you look on your pillow to see the envelope already opened. You squint and grab the letter, pulling out its contents, awaiting what you assume to be Madam Yvette's response. It is a long letter that reads:

"Our dearest (name),  
Something terrible has happened, just this past year your father contracted pneumonia. As of now, we are in the worst drought of the century. With your father still recovering and the crops failing, we have no choice but to cut our funds for your schooling. I have already written Madam Yvette about the matter and she said that she could work out an arrangement. "

You cannot bear to read the rest of the letter as tears fall from your face. Someone knocks at the door.

"Go away!" You cry, but the door opens anyways.

"Now now, is that how you treat the woman in charge of your life?" The headmistress coos, two movers enter the room and begin confiscating your belongings. You charge at the woman in the door frame and slug her hard across the jaw. The movers quickly apprehend you as Madam Yvette twists open her cane to reveal a riding crop. She swats you against your temple, then your cheek, then your stomach, and your back. You howl in pain as the stinging scores begin to bleed.

"From now on, you are nothing but property." She hums and lifts your chin with the crop. You snort and spit in her eye, earning you several more lashes across your stomach.

"Gentlemen, escort her to her new home." The two men drag you down the halls like yesterday's dirty laundry, making sure you feel every bump of the stairs as they escort you lower and lower into the school. They stop at the top of a cellar door and hold you above the stairs. For once in your life, fear fills you as you stare into the darkness below.

The men toss you down the stairs and you tumble down, everything seems to move in slow motion, and for a moment your world turns to static as your head crashes against the stones below you. Within seconds your world turns black.


	3. And In A Flash

_**A/N Evening everyone! Ryzi here with the next installment of PARALLELS And WHEW. It is a long one! 12 pages of...well...**_  
_**Thank you so so so much to the lovely Mothra for beta-ing!**_  
_**So...Life update. School. Lots of school.**_  
_**I write this when I can but as for updating faster, I might not be able to.**_

* * *

Your head spins as you finally awaken to the soft voice of a woman talking to herself. You turn your head and slowly open your eyes, still feeling the pounding in your skull from being tossed down the steps. The low light of the room manages to barely illuminate a thin looking woman in a rocking chair. You feel her eyes set on you and you instinctively tense up, fearing the worst.

"Oh thank goodness you woke up...I was almost certain you were a goner..." She says above a whisper. Her voice strikes a familiar chord and your eye widen a fraction.

"A-Abigail?" You croak and attempt to prop yourself up, but instantly feel the room begin to spin. A groan escapes your lips and a bout of nausea sets in.

"Please, don't try and force yourself dear." Abigail paces over to you and places a warm rag on your forehead.

"How did...you get here?" The warmth from the rag quickly soothes your throbbing headache.

"I've been workin' here for the past...four years...Madam Yvette's last servant passed on after a terrible case of pneumonia..." The woman lowers her head and sighs, "and all this work has really taken a toll..." she lights a nearby lantern to reveal a worn face. Her once flawless ebony hair is now streaked with silver, her hands are scarred from countless beatings, and her eyes seem duller than they should. You feel your heart drop.

"Abigail-"

"Could you please call me 'Abby'?" She hesitantly interrupts.

"Sure, Abby, I hate to be selfish but...what will become of me?" You twist your fingers in the blanket.

"Well...Madam Yvette made it clear she doesn't want to see you ever again...She told me I could do with you what I may...So I think I'll have you run out into town and be my errand girl. After all, the merchants won't give you dirty looks for trying to shop alone. Once you're all better of course."

You smile and breathe a long sigh of relief, "Thank you...Abby." Your eyes flutter shut as exhaustion washes over you. Abigail chuckles softly and adjusts your blanket before patting your head and allowing you to fall back asleep.

* * *

A week passes before you feel right enough to get out of bed. Your head has finally stopped spinning every time you sit up, and you can finally hold down a full meal without feeling nauseous. You shuffle off of the bed and stretch your aching legs. Oh how good it feels to be able to stand again!

"Oh great! You're up and about!" Abigail smiles as she returns from the kitchen with a tray of food. You open your mouth to speak, but the mere scent of the delightful meal has you stunned silent. Your friend places the tray down on a nearby table and motions for you to come and eat.

You quickly thank her for the food and for her kindness before digging in. Oh it tastes so good! The biscuit is soft and warm, the chicken is seasoned expertly, and the vegetables are steamed just enough. It reminds you of your mother's cooking back home.

"Momma...Pa...Oh I hope everyone is alright..." A stray tear rolls down your cheek as you think about your family and the struggle they must be enduring.

"(Name)? What's wrong dear?" Abigail looks at you with utter concern.

"I...I just...I miss my family. I never got to talk to them once...And the last I've heard from them...everything was going to Hell. Crops are bad, pa is sick..." A sob escapes your lips and you bury your face in your hands, "Sorry I just...I wish I could go and help them..."

You feel Abigail pull you in for a long hug as she whispers soft comforting words, "Dear, in a way...you are helping them. If you found some way back they would only have another mouth to struggle to feed. At least here you're safe with a roof over your head and food in your belly."

Her words sting, but hold the honest truth.

"Yeah...But I would like to try and write to them...Momma must be worried sick." You hiccup as the sobbing subsides.

The dark-skinned servant hums in thought for a moment before releasing you from her hold and looks at you, "Perhaps you can...I know! When the milkman comes around, I'll give him your letter. He can take it to the post for you! He does owe me a favour."

"Re-really? Oh thank you so much!" You clap your hands together.

"But just so you know, your family won't be able to write back. After all, if a letter from them appeared in the school's mailbox...well Madam Yvette won't be too happy." She clarifies. Your shoulders drop a little, but it's understandable. Still, just being able to send letters is good enough.

"Well, now that's settled. On to the next matter of business!" Abigail hands you a simple dress and apron, "I have to teach you everything there is to know about navigating the marketplace, finding deals, who to be wary of, and anything else important...Oh! And to curb that attitude of yours." She wags her finger at you as you dress.

"What's wrong with how I act?" You plant your hands on your hips with a huff.

"Nothing really, you're headstrong and independent, but if you want to get by without getting too badly hurt, you need to know when to hold and throw your punches."

"I guess I can deal with that."

"Good, we have a lot to cover and only one night to do it."

* * *

Six hours of nonstop training passes agonizingly slow. Your brain aches from having to memorize the marketplace, every safe and unsafe alley, friendly houses, merchant names, important figures, and even the school's set schedule. You feel your thoughts swirl as you attempt to remember how to haggle prices, tell a good tomato from a bad one by just looking at it, barter with the stingy shop keeps, and how to keep up an innocent façade in order to keep the public unsuspecting.

"But, shouldn't they all know I'm not to be messed with?" You ask with a yawn.

"(Name), I know you're tough, but if you get reckless out there then you're gonna get hurt. I don't wanna wake up one morning to find you in a bloody mess at my steps. And I don't think your mother would like to hear her little girl is dead."

You pause to take in your friend's words, "I…never thought about it that way."

"Dearie, there's a time and place to pick a fight, you just need to know when. Now get some sleep, I need you to go out to the market early tomorrow morning."

You curl back up in your bed and let exhaustion take over.

* * *

You wake up to the sensation of Abigail lightly nudging your arm.

"Get up, get dressed, there's a list of what you need to buy and the money for it on the table. I have to get breakfast ready. I'm sure you can handle the shopping." She coos softly.

You groan and wipe the sleep from your eyes then proceed to swing your legs over the side of the bed and plant your feet on the cold stone floor. You yawn loudly then proceed to wash your face off in the basin next to the small wood stove. The chilly water quickly shocks your system awake and you quickly pace over to the cabinet by your bed. You pull out the wool dress and shuffle into it, then you tie the apron tightly around your waist and slip into the leather boots by your feet. You look out the shuttered window to see the sun rising slowly. You glance to the clock on the wall.

"...Two hours to get the shopping done...Okay..." You sigh and gather the list and money from the table before running out into the marketplace.

* * *

Even though the sun is barely up, patrons scurry about the large district. Chatter roars through the early morning air, the rumbling of traveling feet sounds like thunder, the pungent odor of fresh seafood makes you gag and pull your apron over your nose. You frantically look around for the first merchant in the chaos of the morning.

"You should always buy the fruit first! It's freshest in the morning. Then vegetables, then meat, then anything baked, and lastly anything special such as spices and the like." Abigail's words echo in your thoughts.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the sign for the fruit merchant and attempt to weave your way through the crowd. The vendor waves his hands animatedly and shouts out into the sea of people, drawing in customers left and right. You stop about ten feet from the stand and brace yourself to barge into the wall of bodies that separate you from your first stop.

"Alright (Name)...we...we can do this." You give yourself a little pep talk and ball your fists before charging up to the stand. Several customers glare at you as you furiously collect the fruit you need into a small basket and wave the correct amount of cash at the vendor. The man looks down at you with a glint in his eye that chills you to the bone, but he accepts your money nonetheless and you are soon forced out of the swarm of people. You huff and sigh deeply before looking down the main road to the vegetable stand only a few feet away.

As you pace down the street you feel suddenly lighter and stop. A voice behind you curses softly and you hear a few coins clatter to the ground. You whip yourself around just in time to see a figure dashing into a nearby alley. You tremble with rage and pursue the thief, making sure that the produce you had just purchased did not go flying out of your basket as you ran.

You turn the corner into the alley where you see the same figure standing absolutely still.

"Hey, gimme back my money!" You demand and thrust out an open palm.

"No!" The figure screams, by the pitch of their voice you can tell it's a young boy. Another figure steps out of the shadows, this one is much taller and broader. You freeze and hesitate back.

"…if you get reckless out there then you're gonna get hurt." Abigail's words ring in your thoughts.

"Is this girl causin' you problems Frankie?" The taller, more masculine sounding, figure growls.

"I just want my money back so I can finish shopping." You stammer out, feeling intimidated.

You watch the taller figure kneel down next to who you assume to be "Frankie" and mumble something. Frankie nods a few times before walking up to you. He looks up at you with regret and holds out the money he stole.

"Sorry miss…" He whispers. You cautiously take back the money and quickly leaf through it to make sure it is all there. Yes, it is. Your thoughts flash to your family's situation, how they could very well be in the same boat as the two men in front of you. A wave of pity washes over you and you pull a dollar out from the small stack tucking it in little Frankie's hand before offering an orange to him. The small boy smiles and scampers off to the larger man.

"You're too kind girl." The tall figure says with a smile in his voice. You reach into the fruit bag and pull out an apple; Abigail should not mind if you are short two fruits.

"Here, for you too." You toss the apple at the figure and watch him catch it.

"Nice aim, and thank you. You really are too kind." Both men walk farther into the alley and for a moment you feel fairly satisfied with yourself. You turn on your heel and head back out into the marketplace to finish up your errands.

* * *

Your arms ache as you struggle to carry back all the groceries. Of course the first day out you have to purchase what feels to be an entire flock of uncooked chicken. You huff out a sigh as you plop the sacks down on the stoop of the kitchen entrance and let yourself in.

"Abby! I have the groceries!" You call and begin to drag the overfilled bags into the large room.

"Oh! Good job dearie! I was worried for a moment, but I knew you could do it!" The head servant coos as she quickly assists you in bringing the bags inside, "Did you have any trouble?"

"At first, a boy took the money you gave me and ran off. I got it back in return for an apple and an orange. I hope you don't mind."

"You didn't get hurt and that's all that matters." She empties the bags on the table and begins sorting through the various foods, "Now come on, we have a lot to get done today." You smile and assume your spot next to her at the counter.

* * *

Dear Everyone,  
I hope everything back on the farm is getting better since you wrote me last year. Madam Yvette has me aiding Abigail, the head servant. She's very kind and very patient. She's taught me so many things like cooking, cleaning, bargaining, navigating, sewing, oh just so much! For my birthday she even made me a small cake and gave me a hat that her mother gave her! Oh it's just so lovely. I wish to show it to you one day.  
As of late, everything has been getting busy. Abby and I have been cooking nonstop for the school's dance. It's a huge social event where the graduating girls from the school and the graduating boys from our brother school show that all their tuition money hasn't been wasted with fancy music and dining and dancing. Part of me wishes to go just to dance and listen to the music, but I must stay here and help. I really don't mind. I wish you all luck with the farm and I hope to write you all again soon.  
Love,  
(Name)

Tears roll down your cheeks as you slip the letter into the envelope and address it. You scoot off the small bed and place the letter on the small table by the door so that the next time you head out you can drop the letter off at the post office.

With a quick swipe of the palm against your cheeks, you wipe away the stray tears and return to Abigail who is stuffing a turkey.

"Ah welcome back, salt please." You hand her the condiment then begin chopping vegetables.

"Thank you." She exhales, "This is one of the toughest dinners of the year, but it's also my favourite." You glance at the head servant quizzically.

"Why's that?" You slide the chopped vegetables into a large pot of broth.

"Because I really get to push myself. I get to really show my stuff!" She pauses, "Oh shoot. (Name) dearie? Could you head out to the market and get another loaf of bread?"

"Certainly Abby!" You pipe up then grab the purse and your letter before proceeding out the door.

The afternoon sun shines brightly down on the marketplace as you quickly stroll past the patrons. Birds chirp and flutter through the air, a breeze sweeps past your feet, and the soft roaring of chatter fills your ears. But you cannot let the beautiful day distract you, no, you have work to get done. You adjust the hat from Abigail on your head and waltz into the bakery. Luckily it is not busy and you purchase the loaf needed.

"Alright...now to deliver the letter..." You mumble to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment to plan out the route.

The Post Office is a good half mile from the market place and you decide that taking the main road should be the quickest way. With a small huff you make your way out into the streets again.

As you scurry down the sidewalk you hear the boy working the news stand shouting something about a city named "Columbia". You hesitate for a moment and end up staggering to a stop. That name...Columbia.

It strikes a chord in your mind and you feel some sort of pressure build in your head. Your vision hazes over like static. Words and phrases garble in your thoughts, trying to make coherent conversations. You grab your head and groan.

Suddenly a loud caw snaps you from the pain and you blink a few times, feeling instantly better. You straighten your posture and quickly resume your trek to the post office.

The building comes into view over the horizon and you break into a sprint. Everything becomes a blur of sights and sounds as you focus in on the mailbox just a few yards in front of you. Quickly, you open the box and toss the letter inside, and turn on your heel to dash back to the school to help Abigail.

* * *

"Whew...Great work today dearie." Abigail sighs as she slowly sits down in her rocking chair. You take a seat on the stool next to her and sigh softly.

"What's wrong?" She glances over at you.

"I was just thinking...How fun it would be to go to the dance. I mean, I hate all the girls, and of course I hate Madam Yvette, but I'd love to go and dance for night. Get all dolled up...maybe find a boy..." You sigh dreamily.

Abigail laughs heartily and pats your shoulder. You look up at her and raise a brow.

"What? What is so funny?" You all but huff as you cross your arms.

"I'll tell you what dearie. When you're 17 in two more years, I'll make you a dress for that dance. You deserve to have one night."

"R-really?!" Your (colour) eyes flicker in happiness and excitement.

"Besides, it'll be the last time you have to ever see those uppity snobs." Abigail tosses her head back, imitating a higher class woman. You giggle in delight and smile, utterly excited that in two short years you would be out dancing the night away.

* * *

Perhaps…"two short years" is an understatement since those two years seem to drag on and you and Abigail only seem to get busier, but true to her word, Abigail fashions you a beautiful gown just for the dance. You run your hands over the soft red material and stare at yourself in the mirror. Everything about the dress is perfect. From the cinched waist, to the slightly taut sleeves, to the subtly flared skirt...just everything! You can't help but smile. A stray tear falls from you eye as you marvel in the sheer beauty.

"Red really suits you." You hear Abigail coo from behind, "But remember what I told you dearie."

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, "How could I forget? You've only been drilling it into my head for the past week."

"Prove it then."

"Don't talk to any of the girls, stay out of trouble, stay away from Yvette, if someone should notice me I will leave."

"And have fun. Be safe." She hooks her arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your temple. You smile and pull Abigail into a tight hug before heading up into the school.

* * *

Luckily for you no one seems to recognize you right away and you find a seat far enough away from the other girls of the school. The dance still has a few minutes until it begins and you take that time to glance over your former classmates. All of the girls seem so dull behind their eyes, like the life has been drained right out of them. You snicker to yourself, perhaps being thrown down into the pits of the school was the best thing to ever happen to you. However you continue looking around the large ballroom and spot Madam Yvette standing expectantly at the oversized set of doors. Her dark grey hair now has stark streaks of white against it, no doubt from having to had deal with you, her eyes look sunken in and completely defeated, and her mouth is twisted in a frown. You yourself can't help but smile at the fact that you left a rather "great" impression on that horrible, stuck-up, vile…

The doors unlatch and a line of young men march into the ballroom, lead by their own Headmaster. Madam Yvette forces a smile and offers her hand to the headmaster which he takes and kisses the back of her palm. You sneer and make a soft noise of disgust at the sight.

"Well everyone, I hope you enjoy your evening. Dinner was provided by the lovely Miss Maria!" Yvette motions over to a plump looking woman by the food. You scowl, how dare she not even give Abigail credit for her hard work! You can feel your blood boiling in anger, but you compose yourself quickly since the night is still young.

"Now enjoy yourselves, congratulations everyone, you deserve it." The Headmaster finishes and the music starts playing a slow tune. The young men make their way over to your former classmates and escort them out onto the floor. You remain in your seat, waiting for the mood to lighten and for Madam Yvette to stop looking...in your direction. You swallow thickly, hoping that she doesn't immediately stomp over to you and lash you. Both your eyes link and you can feel the tension building.

"Oh no...Oh no...Please no." You beg mentally. And to your surprise, Yvette looks away, but not without sending you a subtle smirk of "You'll get yours".

A chill runs down your spine and you stand up to make your way over to the food where a few of the more nervous students attempt to keep from mingling. The smells all mix in a lovely aroma that makes your mouth water. Beef, chicken, pork, vegetables, breads, sparkling juices...you have half a mind to just dive right in. You grab a plate and begin filling it as best you can. The boys on the other side of the table stare at you in disbelief.

"You're...going to eat all that?" One boy nearly blurts out, his friend keeps staring at your plate.

"Of course!" You smile and grab a glass of sparkling cider, "Care to join me over at a table?" Both boys flush brightly before turning to one another and exchanging some murmured words.

"Be right there, you go on and sit down."

You flash another smile and find a table away from the crowd before setting everything down and waiting for the young men to join you. However only one does and you look at him quizzically.

"Where's your friend?" You inquire, tilting your head slightly.

"Oh, Joseph? He said he was going to dance with the…" he points to a shy looking girl in the corner, "the red-haired girl over there...Ana I think her name is." You let out a soft "ah" and nod.

"Anyways, my name's Adam." He holds out his hand and you firmly shake it, which throws him off guard.

"Oop, sorry. I'm used to dealing with my brothers…I'm (Name)" you chuckle nervously and loosen your grip so that he's able to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"It's alright, so...um…" Adam flushes and rubs the back of his neck. You simply dig into your food as he stammers awkwardly. You lose yourself in the tastes and something in the back of your mind sparks in rage. How dare Abigail not get the credit she deserves! Not thinking, you bang your fist on the table, and all but stop everything going on.

"U-uhm…(N-name)?" Adam stares at you, his lip trembling in what appears to be worry. You hear footsteps behind you.

"Miss (Surname), are you causing another riot?" Madam Yvette coos from behind. You swallow thickly and turn to face the woman.

"Of course not. I was just...startled, I thought I saw something." You do your best to reply coolly. The tension only grows thicker as Madam Yvette clicks her tongue and paces off. You sigh heavily and slump over.

"Are you alright? What startled you?" The young man across from you scans you over.

"It's nothing…How about we go out and dance?"

Adam blinks a few times and your eyes grow wide. Did you just offend him? What was so odd about that question? Your mouth feels dry and you sink back in your chair.

"Adam?" You softly pipe up.

"Oh it's just...unusual for such a girl to be so straightforward, but sure let's dance." He rises from his seat and offers a hand. You lightly grasp around his hand and let him lead you out onto to the floor. Adam turns in front of you and places one hand on your shoulder and the other around your waist. He proceeds to lead you in a spirited dance and you make sure that you don't trip over your two left feet. Adam smiles as he spins you around, a soft laugh escapes his lips and you can't help but laugh as well...until your feet suddenly forget what movement is and you fall clumsily into the next couple, knocking them over onto the floor.

Everything stops again, and you gulp. This is it. You're dead. The other girl whimpers and tears up while her date glares at you with a burning hatred.

"I am so sorry!" You manage to squeak out.

"(Name)?" You hear the girl gasp under her breath as her eyes grow wide. Oh no. She recognizes you. Her lips crack a subtle, wicked smile. In an instant she works up the tears and sobs loudly.

"S-She struck me!" The girl wails and holds a hand over her eye as if it was hurt. Your mind reels, trying to remind yourself not to start a fight, but it becomes increasingly harder as the girl continues to cry out accusations.

Yvette and the headmaster march up to the scene and a pair of rough hands pluck you from the ground.

"And who is this Madam Yvette? Certainly not one of your beautiful young ladies." The Headmaster all but snarls.

"No, she's not Sir Stephan. She's just a sneaky little finch. Used to cause all sorts of trouble here."

It's definitely over. And you were doing so well too. Looks like you are going home in a casket.

Then like a silver lining, a familiar voice rings out, "Oh dearie! (Name)! You forgot the bulb!" Abigail comes scurrying into the ballroom with a light bulb.

"Servant…" Yvette begins bitterly, "isn't this girl under your watch?"

Abigail bows her head, "Yes ma'am, I sent her to change the broken bulb over there," she points to a conveniently shattered bulb, "But in the tizzy she forgot the bulb! I do hope she hasn't caused any trouble."

"She has." The Headmistress narrows her eyes. Abigail brings a hand to her mouth in shock and manages to pull you away from Sir Stephan.

"I'm gonna teach her a lesson." Abigail drags you off.

* * *

"What did I tell you?" Abigail scolds as she sits you down in a chair.

"I was fine for a while...then I tripped and this girl cried wolf on me. Saying I hit her! Even Yvette knew I was there and she didn't bother me!"

"So what did happen?" She raises a brow and you explain the events of the dance to her. Abigail looks you over a few times. The silence grows uncomfortable and part of you wonders just what might happen. Then Abigail breaks down into a coughing fit, clutching her chest as she crumples to the ground.

Panic settles in your chest and you kneel next to your friend. Her face looks a little paler and her hands are clammy. Sweat beads on her forehead and she coughs violently again. By the looks of it, this was no sudden illness, but rather something that had been going on for a while. You help set her up in her rocking chair and rush to the basin to soak a rag and fill a cup with water. You return to Abigail, whom is trembling, and pat her forehead with the rag.

"A-Abby…" You whimper. She cracks her eyes open and smiles.

"I'm fine dearie. Just a little tired." She takes the cup and slowly sips down the water. But you don't feel relieved in the slightest. The look in her eyes is that of an exhausted woman. She suddenly looks so tiny in that chair and you swallow thickly, a pang in your stomach telling you to expect the worst.

Abigail reaches forward and strokes your hair, "I'm fine. I just need a nice rest is all." You feel your lip tremble at her voice. How weak and defeated it sounds...but you don't protest. Instead you tiptoe your way to your bed and lay down, praying that your gut isn't right.

* * *

The next morning isn't any better when you find Abigail hunched over a wastebasket, retching. You slip on your work clothes and move to your friend. You pat her shoulder to let her know you're up and she huffs.

"I'm a little worse for wear today. Could you finish the meal and go serve the girls? As long as you don't say anything...you should be fine." She breathes out. You utter out a "sure" and quickly move to the kitchen so that breakfast can be served on time.

It's a simple meal, one Abigail had shown you thousands of times over. You portion out the plates and stack them on the serving cart before taking everything out into the dining room. Weight settles on your shoulders as you feel every girl stare at you. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you silently serve the table. The sound of hushed chatter and rumors fills your ears and you do your best to ignore them. But mixing that with the growing worry of Abigail's condition really begins to wear on you.

When you round the table, Madam Yvette pulls you aside, "Where's the other servant?" she asks.

"Abigail is ill. She needs rest." You reply clearly. The Headmistress nods slowly and her eyes flicker something that chills you to the bone.

"I see, well...finish up. You have to carry her duties as well as your own."

"Of course." You resume serving the girls before retreating back down to the small living quarters under the school. Your mind feels full of static as you attempt to mentally balance the new list of chores and you nearly miss the last step of the staircase, giving yourself a mini heart-attack. You stop at the door to the quarters and a new wave of fear and worry wash over you. Something doesn't feel quite right. You twist the knob on the door and see Abigail still in her chair.

She weakly motions you to come over and you obey, "Dearie…" She coughs, looking worse than before, "I can feel it in my lungs…"

You choke on rogue tears as she begins to stroke your hair, "I most likely won't make it through the night...I can hear home callin' my name. Now...you...you have to put all that learnin' to use. Know when to pick a fight. When to run...I know you can do it. And one day, you'll be back home with ya folks. Tellin' them how brave of a girl you are."

Sobs wrack your body and you bury your face in the fabric of her dress. Abigail continues to coo softly and stroke your hair.

"Don't cry anymore dearie…Finish your work for today. I'll still be here."

You nod and rise to your feet so that you may finish Abigail's work.

* * *

Your mind is elsewhere for the rest of the day. Nothing seems real anymore as you prepare meals, everything seems to be in a fog. Your hands slip a few times as you peel potatoes, cutting your fingers up. You drop the large pot of stew and spend the next ten minutes cleaning it up in a haze. Serving lunch you nearly break down into tears at the prospect of your best friend dying and at dinner you nearly collapse to the floor when Madam Yvette tells you that Abigail will be "taken care of".

As soon as dinner is on the table you rush back to Abigail, only to find that she is missing. The door that leads to the alley shuts loudly and you run over to see a man leading Abigail deeper into the darkness. Everything in your mind crashes forward, sending your head into a spiraling ache. The fading light casts an angelic glow around Abigail as she slumps against the brick wall. The man draws a knife and you watch it shimmer as he quickly slashes her throat in a glittering spray of crimson. You shriek at the sight. How could someone treat anyone like this?! Like cattle?! No, worse than cattle. What kind of sick and twisted person could just allow this to happen?! Abigail could have gotten better by some miracle! Or even passed on peacefully in her sleep…

Hot, angry tears roll off your cheeks and you collect a blanket. You pace out into the alley once the man has left and you cover Abigail's lifeless body. Fire sparks in your stomach and you decide that you can no longer stay here. Not with these horrible monsters.


End file.
